Harry Potter and the Homicidal Maniac
by Caness
Summary: Johnny has just been informed he's a wizard. Can he cope?


Title: Harry Potter and the Homicidal Maniac OR Dear DIE-ary, I'm a wizard!

Category: Crossover between Johnny the Homicidal Maniac and Harry Potter, Alternate Universe

Warnings: Eventual Yaoi and Het, Violence…

Ramblings: I just bought JTHM: Director's Cut and Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, enough said? Disclaimer: I don't own JTHM, Harry Potter or McGonagall's letter. Just borrowing…

Author's Notes: The rest is quite self explanatory, I assure you. Shall we carry on then?

_Dear DIE-ary,_

_I killed someone today… I'm not proud of it, mind you. But today I've decided to use this empty book as my log… My only assurance that life still exists, if you will…_

_Well, then. Back to the woman… She called me a… she called me a bloody faggot! And a mud blood… though I'm not entirely sure of the latter's meaning. Can't exactly ask her now, can w_

"Argh…! Fucking bloody 'ell! I'm being attacked by pigeons!" The "pigeon" flew off, but dropped a parchment envelope into Johnny's lap. The letter was entitled to him, Johnny, in green ink and scripty handwriting:

_Mr. Johnny C._

_The top Floor window seat_

_777 Middle of Somewhere Rd._

_Just outside of London_

"A letter?" Johnny carefully tore the letter open and cautiously perused the interior.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumblebore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr. C.,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

"Is this some sort of sick joke?" he choked.

"I must inform you, Mr. C. that it is most certainly no joke," an old man with a white beard almost to his knees spoke.

"Wh-Who are you?"

"Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, at your service." He did a little bow and smiled. Johnny gaped incredulously at him.

"So I'm a, a wizard…?" Johnny's face was losing it's sickly yellow glow. Dumbledore nodded. "Where'll I get all this stuff?" He gestured vaguely to the list.

"That's why I'm here. Our gamekeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, will escort you to Diagon Alley." A great man nearly eight feet tall ducked into the room.

"Nice to mee'cha, Johnny," Hagrid said with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. He held out his hand to be shook, Johnny hesitantly took it. "We bes' be goin' then." Dumbledore gave Hagrid a bowl of floo powder and apparated back to his Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.

" What's that stuff?"

"Floo Powder. It'll ger yer te Diagon Alley. Lead me to yer fireplace then." Johnny silently led him down a flight of stairs and to a rather large, brick mantel on the far wall. "All righ' now, take a 'andful o' powder and step inside," Johnny obeyed. "Now say "Diagon Alley" as loudly an' clearly as ye can an' drop th' powder at yer feet."

"DIAGON ALLEY!" Johnny dropped the powder and felt a horrible pain in his head as things began to spin into green flames all around. Then he found himself being spit into the middle of the street by a large fireplace. People began to stare, some pointing and some even laughing. Johnny paid them no attention as he was soon joined by Hagrid.

"All righ', Johnny. Firs' is te get yer some galleons."

"Galleons?"

"Wizard currency. Gringotts we go, come on." This whole time Johnny had been perfectly cold and compliant, but now he wanted answers.

"Wait… ahem How'd I get to be a wizard?"

"Even though ye were muggle-born, yer-"

"Muggle born?"

"Means yer parents were non-magic folk."

"So I got a recessive gene, in other words?"

"I 'spose ya could say tha'."

"Would you happen to know what a "mud blood" is?" Hagrid looked very uncomfortable when he suddenly looked up.

"Ah, 'ere w'are. Gringotts, the underground Wizarding Bank run by goblins."

"Goblins!"

"Yea, goblins. Ger in and see what yer grandfatter's left ya's, shall we?" Johnny nodded, stoic once again. Hagrid pulled out a key and handed it to a rather ugly creature who peered at his list through bespectacled eyes.

"This way." Johnny dozed off and woke up a few vaults before his own, 777. The vault swung open and a few mounds of gold and silver coins stared back at them. Hagrid took a few bags from his jacket and filled them with galleons before handing them off to Johnny.

"Tha'll do."

Back in Diagon Alley they bought all sorts of things a first might need:… a cauldron, robes, parchment, a quill, ink, books and whatever sort of extras they might need.

"I 'ate ter be intrudin' but I 'eard ye lost yer temper with a woman who called yes' a mud blood t'day… an', er… What's come of 'er?"

"Well, first off: I don't really know what a mud blood is, though I assume it's got to do with that muggle-born thing. The reason I lost my temper is because she called me a faggot," he paused. "And I'm sure you just want to clarify whatever you heard, but, for your own clarity and mine, she's dead. It wasn't exactly murder as I didn't mean to kill her, I didn't touch her…"

"Yer Ravenclaw material, y'are."

"What?"

"Ravenclaw. They're four 'ouses at 'ogwarts: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin. I'd bet anythin' you end up in Ravenclaw."

"Why's that?"

"On'y the brigh'est o' the brigh' ger in. Yer quite inquisitive, fast on the uptake. A real good candidate, ye are."

"I'll assume that was a compliment. What of my grandfather then?"

"Well… 'e was a Ravenclaw. Smarterst man I e'er known. An auror for the Ministry, 'e was."

"Auror?"

"They fight the Dark Arts. Like Yer-Know-Who."

"I'm not quite sure I do."

"'e was… er… is… a dark wizard… 'e kills with an 'orrible curse an' tortures with an even 'orribler 'un. 'e killed li'le 'arry Potter's parents, 'e did. But, 'arry Potter was the boy-that-lived. 'e was the on'y 'un, too. 'e 'as a ligh'ning bolt scar ter prove it. 'e's goin' ter be a firs' year at 'ogwarts, too."

"Anything else you can tell me about my grandfather? A name? A description? A death date? A birth date? Anything at all?"

"'e look a bit like ye, long an' nood'ly-like. His hair was the same on'y 'e always 'ad it died red or blue. Name was Jhonen Vasquez. 'e was a bit wrong in the brain ther. Very twisted an' o' bit violent, I'm afraid. Very reserved except on select occasions. Fact, 'e's still 'live, if I'm not mistaken. Maybe yer can live with 'im?"

"Maybe…" Out of nowhere a platinum blonde pre-teen bumped unceremoniously into him.

"Oof! Watch where you're going… Hogwarts, I assume. First year?" Johnny nodded. The boy got right in his face. "Draco Malfoy, first year as well."

"Johnny C."

"Come along, Draco," A spindly platinum blonde man called a few feet ahead.

"See you on the train then," Draco sniggered as he walked away smirking.

Johnny stared after them, indifferent. Then he blinked and walked on to get an owl.

"All righ' then, Johnny, 'arry. Off with the Weasleys yer go. See yers at 'ogwarts!" He waved and walked off.

"Okay, boys," Mrs. Weasley was saying. "Now just walk at the wall, run if you're nervous. Come along now. Percy first, then Fred and George." A tall, bespectacled, red head ran through to platform 9 ¾. Then two, shorter, red headed twins. "Now, Ro-Ohlordit'sHarryPotter!" she squealed.

"Wha?" Ron spun about. "It's the-boy-that-lived! It really is you-I mean him. You're Harry Potter, you are!" Harry nodded uneasily.

"Harry, why don't you go next?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly. Harry did what was asked of him. "Now, Ro-Oh, who are you? Another first year?" Ron spun about again. The boy in question nodded. "Well, okay, you and Ron can go together then. Move along, train's leaving."

Once on the other side of the platform and safely on the train they began trying to find seats. Finding nowhere, Ron and Johnny went all the way to the back where they found a strange girl and Harry.

"Got yourself a girlfriend?"

"Not at all. Hermione, Ron Weasley. Ron, Hermione Granger. Oh yes, Ron and Hermione, this is Johnny C." Johnny smiled meekly.

"Those brave enough to call themselves my friends call me Nny."

"That's an interesting getup, Nny," said Hermione. She was referring to his usual black and white stripes, his knee-high buckled boots and his tailed jacket. He smiled widely.

"Why… thank you." He sat down next to Ron.

"We should change into our robes halfway so we don't forget," Hermione said sensibly. They all nodded their consent.

"I don't mean to be blunt, but, is anybody else here muggle born…?" Hermione nodded. "What about orphan?" Harry nodded sadly. "Hmmm…" Just then Draco waltzed in.

"Hello, fellow first years. Having a nice ride?" He was accompanied by two tall muscles who they later found to be Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe.

"Malfoy." Johnny said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

"Who're these-" He stepped over in front of Harry. "Why, you're Harry Potter, aren't you? You must think yourself so much bloody better that the rest of us, eh, Potter?"

"Not really, no."

"Oh, really… Well, I suppose we'll meet again, Potter. C." With that, he spun, robes floating behind him, and went back to his seat. Ron rolled his eyes.

"What's his problem."

"Ooo, Nny. That's a pretty owl you've got there. Almost as nice as Hedwig," Hermione said, staring in awe at the coal black bird and stroking Crookshanks absentmindedly. "What's his name?"

"The Black Knight. You know, from Monty Python."

"Monty… what?"

"Oh, come on, Ron! You live in England! Monty Python and the Holy Grail is a British comedy movie."

"Oh," Ron said, scratching his head.

"Firs' years o'er 'ere! Firs' years!"

"It's Hagrid, let's go," Harry said.

_"Who?" Ron asked._

"The gamekeeper."

"Oh."

"Come on, firs' years. Pick a boat and climb in."

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be._

_"You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
set Gryffindors apart;_

"_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid to toil;_

"_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,  
Those of wit and learning  
Will always find their kind;_

"_Or perhaps in Slytherin,_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

"_So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands  
(though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

_Johnny was zoning out, but he was sure he had heard 'eat' somewhere in there, and realized just how hungry he was. He was much too nervous to get on with this sorting business._

"C., Johnny!" Johnny stumbled over to the stool when he sat down and placed the hat upon his head.

_You've got some brains in here, you do, _spoke the Sorting Hat inside his head.

'You're not going to put me in Ravenclaw, are you?' Johnny thought.

_What's wrong with Ravenclaw?_

'Nothing, really. But, my grandfather was in Ravenclaw and…'

_You want to make your own destiny. Well then best in…_

"_SLYTHERIN!"_

There was much applause as Johnny walked his way stiffly over to the Slytherin table. He was shortly joined by Crabbe. He then watched Hermione sorted into Gryffindor, and he was joined soon after by Goyle and then Malfoy. Harry and Ron were sorted into Gryffindor as well before the food and festivities really began. Johnny had forgotten how long it had been since he'd actually eaten.

"C." Johnny looked up from his plate.

"You can call me Johnny or Nny for all it means to you, Draco. But, yes?"

"What's your deal anyway?"

"What ever do you mean?"

"What kind of family do you come from?"

"I'm an orphan, but my parents were muggle-"

"A mud blood?" Draco's voice had taken on a high-pitched, girlish quality. Nny nodded.

"That's right."

"A MUDBLOOD! IN SLYTHERIN! This CAN'T be happening! I'm not eating."

"What's so wrong with being muggle born, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall seethed.

"Oh…er…nothing, Professor…"

"C, Crabbe and Goyle are your new dorm mates once I clear it with Professor Snape, so you had best make quick friends. Good day, Mr. Malfoy," she said, walking away briskly.

"C.," Draco said, curtly nodding in acknowledgement.

"Oh… Hi, Dra-err, Malfoy." They changed out of their robes in silence. "Err… Can I ask you a question?"

"Whatever about?" said Draco guardedly.

"I was just wondering… Why do you hate muggles so much?"

"I don't have to answer your questions."

"No, you don't…" Johnny felt an emotion akin to anger bubble up inside him. "But I've been nothing but accepting and nice to you thinking maybe, just maybe, you're not the asshole you're made out to be." Draco snorted derisively.

"Well…?"

"I was wrong." Draco looked him up and down, sizing him up.

"Damn straight." Johnny made a hmph-like noise and stomped away in his pyjamas. He flopped down in his bed and threw the curtains closed, all the while glaring at Draco.

"Nny! Nny!" Wait up!" Johnny turned around and glared at Hermione.

"Yes?" He crossed his arms across his chest and looked down his nose at her.

"Come now. Just because you're in Slytherin and I'm in Gryffindor doesn't mean we have to be nasty to each other."

"I assure you my mood has very little to do with house politics . Excuse my rudeness for a day, will you. Now, what was it you wanted, Hermione?"

"You're in the Daily Prophet!"

"Say what!" He snatched the paper out of her hands and his eyes danced wildly over the neat type and moving black and white pictures. His eyes widened a fraction. "Holy schnikeys…! Fuckfuckshitfuck." His face drained of all color and he let the paper fall out of his limp fingers and flutter to the floor. He flew down the stairs to the dungeon and into Potions. He grudgingly sat next to Draco. Everyone was staring, gawking, gasping… in horror, most of them, in pity or empathy, others. Nny unfolded his cauldron and set up methodically without raising his eyes from his work.

"Johnny! Wake up! Hell-o! Professor Snape wants us to work together."

"Oh… joy," Johnny paused, then smiled. "You called me Johnny." Johnny leant his tall, lean frame over his cauldron and began following the instructions on the chalk board. Johnny felt a tap on his right shoulder, but when he looked over no one was there. He heard a muffled laugh from his left and his gaze went to Draco. Johnny just shook his head. "What is it, Draco?" Draco stopped laughing.

"We're supposed to be working together, s'all." Johnny full-out grinned.

"Then help me, you git."

"Double potions with Malfoy! I'd die! That's awful…" Ron rambled on disgustedly.

"It wasn't that bad, really."

"Not that bad? Are we talking about the same Malfoy here?"

"Somehow, I highly doubt it," Johnny smiled to himself. "I'm late for Charms, Ron, see you in Divination."

AN: Mkay, I'm gonna be evil and leave it there. RR! I welcome flames.


End file.
